Permanent Ink (Something to Celebrate #1) (4 page)

“A trip? To where?” Blair turned around.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Silly me. I’m going to Hawaii.”

Blair’s face split into a huge grin—the first genuine smile she’d felt all day. “Lola, that’s wonderful.”

“It gets better. I’m going to Hawaii…with my fiancé.”

Blair’s smile dropped like a rock. “With your
what
?”

“I’m getting married!” Lola clapped her hands together.

“To
who
?”

Lola sighed and dropped into a chair next to the round table. “The most wonderful man. Bill Benson.” She said his name as if he were a rock star. “It was love at first sight.”

“I…okay.” Blair forced her feet to move and she pulled out a chair to sit next to her aunt. “Who is he? When did this happen?”

“He owns the car lot in town—Bill Benson’s Fine Autos. We got engaged about a week ago. Announcement’s in this week’s paper. Look!” Lola reached across the table for a folded newspaper. She shook it open and turned one of the ten or so pages that comprised the
Celebration Crier.
“Right here.”

Blair stared down at the photo of a pleasant-looking older man—mostly bald, but still handsome. He held Lola’s hand and both of them looked…content.

“He looks like that old movie actor you like—Jimmy Stewart, right?”

“I know,” Lola said in a breathy voice. Her eyes shone, and she pressed red, lacquered nails to her chest.

Blair glanced at her. Since when did Lola have anything but a sensible French manicure? It was weird. This whole situation was weird. And the town was definitely weird. She hoped that Bill Benson wasn’t part of the weirdness.

Lola met her gaze. “Oh, darling. Don’t look at me like that. Things change—people change. You’re in for a change, too, so you ought to embrace it.”

Blair shook her head. “Lola, you can’t change the way I’m wired.” She tapped an index finger along the surface of the table. “Ducks. Row. I like to do things my way.”

“And how’s that been working out for you lately?”

Blair sucked in a breath. “Ouch?”

“I’m sorry, darling, but you need a push. Aren’t you glad I’m here to give it?” Lola rose from the table and trundled over to the refrigerator. “Now how about a snack?”

“Okay.” Blair picked up the paper and began to flip through it. It was full of a lot of local civic organization news, and two entire pages were devoted to high school sports. She flipped past the editorial section and glanced at the classifieds. She couldn’t help herself—looking at classified ads had become second nature.

There were only three job listings—one for a plant manager position at some place called Parliament Bakery, another for a sales position at Bill Benson’s car lot, and a much longer ad—an official-looking government-type ad—for the position of Celebration’s town planner.

Town planner. The mystery guy had asked her about that. Blair’s lips curved into a smile. Jesus, he was so
hot
—it was almost a shame that she wouldn’t be staying in town. Who was he, anyway? He didn’t look like he belonged in this town any more than she did.

Lola tapped the back side of the newspaper, startling Blair. “Earth to my niece.”

“Yes?”

“I said it appears that you found your dream job.”

“Really?” Blair let paper slide to the table. “Out of the three that are listed here?”

Lola chuckled. “I’ll bet you have. In fact, I’ll bet you a dozen doughnuts from Debbie’s.”

“Who’s Debbie?”

“Debbie owns the doughnut shop.”

Blair nodded. “Oh yeah. It has a pig on the sign. What’s that all about—does she serve bacon-flavored doughnuts?”

“Yes.”

“Eww.” Blair grimaced.

“Each to her own.” Lola shrugged and reached for the paper. “There. The town-planner job.”

“The town-planner job? Are you serious? I’m not qualified.”

And I’m not staying.

“You’re more than qualified.”

“No, I’m not. My degree is in hospitality management, not economics. That ad said an economics degree is required.”

“It also says that a knowledge of event planning is required.” Lola narrowed her eyes at Blair. “You’d be great at that job. Look at it again.” She offered the paper.

Blair withheld a sigh and stared at the ad, pretending—for Lola’s sake—to be interested.

And then a funny thing happened. As she scanned over the event-planning section of the job description, she saw that Lola was right. She
could
do this job—or at least most of it.

But
no
. Really, she wasn’t going to stay in town. It would be a waste of time to apply…

And then something else in the ad caught her eye—one word stuck out—and the wheels in her brain began to turn.

Parade.

This town was
perfect
for the Macy’s parade contest. If she got the job, she could enter the town in the contest. And if she could win the contest…which, really? She probably could. Well. That would make people sit up and take notice. It would go a hell of a long way toward getting a dream job back in the city.

A smile began to curl around the edges of her lips.

“I thought so,” Lola said, a satisfied note in her voice. “You should call the mayor right now and ask for an interview.”

“Today is Saturday. Tomorrow is Easter,” Blair mumbled, still staring at the ad.

“So what?” Lola responded. “It’s better than calling first thing on Monday. She’s probably swamped by then.” She pulled the paper out of Blair’s hands. “The mayor’s name is Ivy, by the way. Nice girl, although she curses a blue streak sometimes.”

Blair folded her hands, her mind still churning. “This town seems kind of crazy, so I can’t say that I blame her.”

“Well, I blame her grandmother. That old woman would put a trucker to shame with her mouth.” Lola walked back to the refrigerator. “I don’t pay her any mind, though. It’s not
my
fault that Bill broke up with her to date me.”

“Wait a minute. You stole your fiancé from the mayor’s grandma?” Blair smiled.

A groan came from the dining room and Kaley’s voice wafted through the doorway. “It was a huge scandal about three months ago. Old lady throw down at the nursing home.”

“It’s not a nursing home!” Lola snapped out. “It’s a retirement community.”

Blair rose and stood in the doorway, flipping on the light switch. The dining room chandelier blazed to life and Kaley, who sat at the table with her head in her hands, groaned again. “Ow, Blair. I’m trying to maintain here.” She raised her head briefly and peered up with puffy eyes. “Please don’t nag at me about being hungover.”

“Wasn’t going to. How long have you been sitting there?” Blair asked.

“Long enough to listen to your little pity party,” Kaley said with a snort. She winced. “Ow, my head.”

“You look like shit,” Blair whispered with a smile.

“Shut up,” Kaley whispered back. “I’m never getting drunk again as long as I live.”

Blair raised a dubious eyebrow. “I believe you one hundred percent.” She pulled out a chair and sat down next to her cousin, taking a strand of Kaley’s hair and smoothing it. “So what would you think if I applied for a job here?”

As the words came out of Blair’s mouth, a surge of panic rose. This was crazy. Maybe she wouldn’t do it. But there was no reason not to. She’d only have to stay a few months, right? Then it would be back to the city to resume her life. Correction—to start the next,
better
phase of her life.

“What do you think, Kaley?”

“Ohh. Rub the back of my neck, please.” Kaley let her head drop back down. “You mean you moving in here? Yeah, I guess so. As long as you don’t steal my stuff,” she mumbled.

Blair rubbed Kaley’s neck. “You can count on that.”

Lola appeared in the doorway with a plate of cheese and crackers. She plunked it down in front of Blair. “It’s so good to have you here.” She winked. “I think you’re going to take Celebration by storm, and I can’t wait to see it.”

“Didn’t she do that already? All my friends can talk about is how she annihilated the Easter chick,” Kaley said.

Lola coughed. “Yes, well.” She wrinkled her nose at Blair. “Avoid bringing that up at your job interview.”

“Good point.” Blair gave her a pained smile. “No time like the present, right?” She pushed away from the table and stood up. “I’ll be back for the snack in a few. I’m going to call the mayor.”

And before she could lose her courage, she grabbed the newspaper from the kitchen table.

Chapter Four

Ben sat in Ivy Callahan’s office first thing on Monday morning. He hadn’t said a word about Ink Fest yet, mostly because he had no idea where to begin. It was overwhelming and the more he thought about what had to go into planning it, the more he wondered if he’d just put his own ass in a sling by taking it on.

Sherry, the administrative assistant to the mayor, poked her head in.

“You want some coffee, Ben?”

Ivy, whose back was to the door, widened her eyes and gave a subtle shake of her head.

Ben hid a smile by scratching at his beard. “Already had a cup this morning, Sherry, but thanks.” That much was true, but now he wished that he had eaten something to go along with it, because the caffeine on his empty stomach was not pleasant. It gurgled as if agreeing with him.

“Okey dokey,” Sherry said. “I’ll let you get to it, then.” She shut the door behind her and Ivy crossed the room to perch on the arm of the sofa. “Sherry’s coffee could strip paint off a car,” she said wryly.

At the other end of the sofa, Ben chuckled and shifted to face her. “Thanks for the tip. And thanks for seeing me so quickly. I know you’re busy.”

She smiled. “Yep. So…”

“So, I wanted to talk to you about an event I want to hold. In town.”

“Oh yeah?” Ivy perked up. “Let’s hear it.” The phone rang, and she looked at the ceiling. “Shit. I’d let it go to voice mail but I’m expecting an important call.” After jumping up, she grabbed the receiver to her old-fashioned desk phone. “This is Ivy.”

Ben looked down at his hands and pressed his thumbs together. Then he cracked his knuckles, which he only did when he was nervous. There was no reason to be nervous today except for the small possibility that Ivy could say no. But she wouldn’t. Right? He glanced up at her and she nodded at him, holding up a finger. “How about now? Is that too soon?” She paused. “Oh, you’re downstairs. No, no, it’s not a problem. Looking forward to it. Come on up.”

When she hung up and turned back to Ben, he gave her a quick smile. “The phone call you wanted?”

“Yep.” Ivy smoothed her skirt and sat down in the sagging recliner in front of her desk. “Someone I’m planning to hire. So, tell me about your event.”

“It’s pretty straightforward. Here goes.” He swallowed. Damn, this wasn’t easy. He felt like a pimp. He was about to pimp himself. “Have you heard of the Central New York Ink Fest? It’s in Syracuse.”

“Yeah. My grandmother took us to Ink Fest last summer. Really fun, especially since Marcus looked like a deer in the headlights the whole time.” She grinned.

“Your husband wasn’t impressed?”

“Oh, he was impressed. Although a bit shocked at first, I think. He’s a suit-and-tie kind of guy.” Her grin got bigger. “But anyway, why do you ask?”

Ben laced his fingers together to keep from cracking his knuckles again. “What would you think if Ink Fest moved from Syracuse to Celebration?”

Her jaw dropped open. “No shit? That thing is huge.”

“We could tone it down a bit,” he said hastily. Almost hopefully.

“No, no. That’s not what I mean.” She flapped a hand at him. “I think it would be great. The money it would bring to town? It’s exactly what we need, Ben.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

“So tell me what
you
need.”

He rose. “Well, it runs for five days.” He walked to the windows and looked out at the town commons below. “We’d be taking over the commons. All of it. And I’d need to see about renting some of the empty storefronts for guest artists to set up booths. Can’t do tattooing outside with leaves blowing around and stuff. And then there’s the health department.” He paused. “A lot of logistics.”

And those logistics would be completely up to him to figure out. It would be nice if he had some help.

“Ivy, I guess what I’m saying is that this festival is complicated. I know what I’m doing from the tattooing end, but if you can think of anyone who might be able to give me advice about dealing with publicity and PR, I’d appreciate it. I don’t know that stuff, and I ought to tell you upfront.”

From across the room, Ivy laughed. “Relax, Ben. Everything you’re talking about is music to my ears. The festival means more people in town spending money.”

Ben turned around. “What about the town council?”

“You mean what about Ronald Watkins and Herman Weaver?” She raised an eyebrow. “Those two old farts grumble about everything from parking meters to Christmas wreaths. But the bottom line is money, and they won’t say no to that. As for advice…Ooh! Lightbulb moment. I have a great idea and it involves you.”

Her phone rang again and she picked it up. “Okay, Sherry. I need another minute or two, thanks.” She hung up and weaved through the furniture in the small office and held out her hand to Ben. “Thanks for bringing the festival to Celebration.”

He shook it. “Thank
you
. So…what was your lightbulb idea?”

Her green eyes sharpened with purpose. “I need an assist—uh, a
consultant
for my new community-activities director. Someone to show them the ropes. What do you say?”

He didn’t know what to say.

He couldn’t say no—not right after she’d said yes to him. But Ink Fest was going to take so much time, and then there was his studio. He cleared his throat. “Since when does Celebration have a community-activities director?”

“Since I realized we needed one, which was Saturday afternoon when the perfect person for the job called me up out of the blue. We need someone to manage the festivals and parades.”

“Why?” Ben asked. “Celebration isn’t perfect, but—”

“Tell that to the headless Easter chick.” Ivy shuddered. “So what do you say? It’s a big favor, I know, but you’re well -liked in town and the person I’m about to hire doesn’t know Celebration from a port-a-potty.”

“Nice analogy,” Ben said. “So if this person is so clueless, then why have you decided to hire him? Her?”

“Her. Because.” Ivy walked to the door. “She’s a smart, responsible woman. Plus she’s on fire and has something to prove.”

Ben folded his arms. “Sounds like you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ivy said with a smile. “So will you take the job?”

“Babysit a woman on fire?” He shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” Ben echoed. “I should be going, though if you’re about to—”

“Stay for a minute, please,” Ivy interrupted. With a nod, she opened the door and stood back. “Hi, I’m Ivy Callahan. Pleasure to meet you.”

Two seconds later, the Finger Lakes Queen walked into the room, her long red hair catching a beam of sunlight from the window across the office.

Ben’s breath halted in his chest, and he stood rooted to the floor, watching her as she shook Ivy’s hand. His gaze trailed from the top of her fiery head, over the soft curvy lines of her breasts to the tips of her sexy black pumps. When he glanced back up, she was staring at him—a confused look on her lovely face.

So he did what he did best—he gave her the slowest grin he had. Her aqua eyes widened in alarm, and she gave a light cough before turning to Ivy. “Good morning. I’m Blair Whitaker,” she said. Her voice was soft and musical.

Blair.
He liked that name. It suited her, although he wasn’t sure why, since he didn’t really know her. Well, except for how she felt in his arms. He cracked a couple of knuckles and she glanced at him quickly before smiling at Ivy. And what a smile it was…it lit her eyes up like a summer sky. He stared down at the worn carpet, trying to take a slow, deep breath.

“This is Ben Lambert,” Ivy said.

At the sound of his name, Ben glanced up. “I’m Ben,” he parroted.
Who sounds like a dumbass.
He nodded and walked across the room to shake Blair’s hand. It was as smooth as he’d remembered.

“Hi, Ben,” she murmured before letting her hand slide away. She placed it over her abdomen and took a deep breath.

“So, Blair,” Ivy said. “Guess what?”

A flicker of a frown crossed Blair’s forehead. “What?”

“I can’t hire you for the town-planner position.”

Blair stared at her. “I…you…pardon me? Why did you tell me to stop by for an interview?”

Ivy winced. “That came out all kinds of wrong. Damn. Let me start over?”

Blair gave her a wary nod and glanced at Ben. He smiled encouragingly, or at least he thought he did. By the way she furrowed his brow, he’d probably looked like he was in pain.

Ivy coughed. “Blair, you convinced me ten minutes into our phone conversation on Saturday that I wanted you on board. As Celebration’s community-activities director.” She sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her. “We’ve needed someone to corral all the parades and town events for a while, and I thought I’d have to wait until hell froze over.”

“Hell froze over?” Blair perched on the sofa and let her leather bag slide from her shoulder to the seat. She blinked at Ivy for a second and then reached into the bag to pull out a folder. “Since I’m not the perfect candidate on paper, I printed some things out…some ideas that I think would demonstrate how serious I am about doing a great job for the town of Celebration.”

“Blair?” Ivy smiled. “Did you hear what I said? You’re hired.”

As Ben watched, Blair’s head dipped down and her hair fell forward to form a rippling, soft curtain around her face. She was still for a moment, and then her shoulders began to shake.

Ivy looked up and met Ben’s gaze. “Is she laughing or crying?” she whispered.

Ben lifted his shoulders and spread his palms. “Dunno.” A sob tore out of Blair’s throat and he stepped forward on instinct. “Uh-oh.” He walked around the sofa and crouched next to her. “You okay?”

She nodded, her head still bowed. After a few deep breaths, she held up a finger. “Hold on a sec,” she whispered. “I’m in shock a tiny bit.”

Ben glanced over at Ivy, whose hand was splayed over her chest. Tears were forming in her eyes, too, and he froze. Two crying women? Talk about uh-oh. “You want me to leave?” he asked hopefully.

“No way,” Ivy answered. “She’s fine. You’re fine, right, Blair?”

Blair nodded again and lifted her face. She swiped at her eyes and two streaks of mascara followed the path of her fingers down the sides of her high cheekbones. “It’s just that I’ve been looking for a job for six months.” She nodded. “So, I didn’t expect to react like that.” Her face crumpled again, but she forced her lips into a smile, even as her chin wobbled.

Ben wanted to kiss it. Instead, he got up and scanned Ivy’s desk for a box of tissue. All women had boxes of tissues…and…there it was. He grabbed it and offered one to Blair. She took it with a small smile and he crossed behind the sofa, stopping near the opposite end. Should he sit down? Maybe he should leave. Clearing his throat, he glanced at Ivy, but she shook her head. He stayed put.

“I’ll stop crying in a second.” Blair reached for another tissue.

“It’s perfectly okay,” Ivy said in a soothing tone. “You are going to take the job, though, right?”

A laugh burbled up in Blair’s throat. “An event-planning job for an entire town? Yes. Yes, I will. Thank you very much.”

Before he realized he’d done it, Ben sank down on the arm of the sofa. She was staying in town? Things really were about to change. He grinned.

“You’re welcome.” Ivy patted her hand. “So what did you bring to show me?” She lifted the folder from the sofa and offered it to Blair, who cleared her throat and took it.

She flipped it open and pulled a flyer out. “I printed this from the state of New York’s website. It’s a contest that I think Celebration should enter.”

Ivy scanned it. “Oh, wow. A parade contest.” She smiled down at the paper and read. “Sponsored by Macy’s Parade and Entertainment Group…grand prize is…oh, holy shit! Fifty thousand dollars?”

“Yes.” Blair glanced at her. “The prize money will go to the winning town’s parade-budget account.” Blair pointed at the paper. “And I’m assuming that Celebration meets all of the qualifications. Population under ten thousand, no corporate sponsors, volunteer participants only.”

Ivy nodded. “Yep. That’s us.” She elbowed Blair. “I knew there was a reason I hired you.”

With a laugh, Blair stood and took a small bow. “Thank you. So you want me to sign us up? The deadline is Friday.”

“Absolutely,” Ivy answered. She stood up and began to walk to her desk, but paused.

“I’m assuming it’s going to be a lot of work, Blair, on top of your job. You’ll have a part-time assistant.”

Ben frowned.

“Er, I mean a consultant. Someone to help you get to know Celebration.” Ivy smiled.

“Thanks, that will be nice,” Blair responded.

Ben stepped forward. “It’s me.”

She stared at him, not saying a word.

He waited for her response, his stomach flipping over in a combination of excitement and relief as her amazing eyes lit up with interest.

With the streaks of mascara on her cheeks and her wealth of red hair, she looked like an exotic cat. God, she would be the perfect pinup model. Without thinking, he opened his mouth. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“I…no. What makes you think
that
?” She laughed. “Out of all the things in the world I’d do, a tattoo is pretty much last on my lis…”

Ivy cleared her throat. “Ben owns a tattoo studio. It’s called Skinnovations.”

“Oh, really?” Blair asked in a polite tone. “That’s…how interesting.” She nodded and blinked a couple of times.

Chuckling, Ben crossed his arms. So she was uncomfortable with tattoos—or at least unfamiliar. He’d think positively and assume it was the latter. When she met his eyes, he gave her a smile.

“You two may not have much in common, but something tells me you’ll work well together.” Ivy paused. “In fact, since Ben is helping you, Blair, I’d like to ask a favor in return.”

“Sure.” Blair nodded vigorously, and Ben tried not to laugh. It was sweet that she thought she’d offended him.

Ivy leaned against the edge of her desk. “Good. He needs some advice planning an event and since you’re an event planner…” She shrugged.

“Of course. No problem.” Blair gave Ben a wide smile.

He returned it, trying to keep surprise from showing. Ivy wanted Blair to help plan Ink Fest? That would take
weeks
. Weeks of spending time together. And yeah, he’d have help too, which he definitely needed, but it would be from Blair. Perfect.